


Island

by Roo_Bastmoon



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Dubious Consent, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:57:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roo_Bastmoon/pseuds/Roo_Bastmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Treize and Wufei are trapped on a deserted island.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Island

**Author's Note:**

> First fic I ever wrote. No one should read this. Don't read this. Why are you reading this?

Treize woke to find himself lying on a piece of Gundam, floating in the middle of a rather turbulent sea. This surprised him; he hadn’t expected to survive the crash. Next to him was a small, unconscious, Chinese Gundam pilot. That surprised him even more.

He tried to piece together what had happened . . .

A midair battle. All his pilots were down; Treize decided to take a Doll out and face Shenlong himself. It had been a while since their last duel. They attacked each other with full force, matching blow for blow, when something happened, Treize couldn’t remember what, and there had been an explosion; he fell from the sky. He fleeting thought that if he had to die, at least he was able to die at his hands. 

He looked over at the pilot. The boy’s mouth was slack; his dark, wet hair clung to his cheeks. He looked like a peaceful, sleeping child. He couldn’t be more than fifteen. 

Treize checked for the pilot’s pulse. Even in his sleep, the boy somehow registered the warmth and snuggled closer to Treize’s hand. He was soaked through. They both were. Treize assessed their situation. He saw a small patch of dry land on the edge of the horizon. He started kicking, ignoring his sore muscles and bruised legs. 

He couldn’t just let them die here. Not like this . . . 

Treize reached the shore in half an hour; he slipped off the Gundam and waded to the beach. He fell to his knees, barely able to keep his face out of the water. He wanted to sleep. Wanted to close his eyes so badly. 

He looked over at the boy still draped across the debris. Treize forced himself to stand, lifted the pilot up off of the rubble, and froze when he heard the boy moan. Treize scolded himself for not checking for injuries first. Instinctively, he cradled the boy to his chest and walked gingerly across the hot sand. 

Treize laid the pilot down under a patch of trees, and then sank onto the ground beside him. The crash, and then the swim, and the heat, had exhausted him. He closed his eyes, snaking his right arm around the pilot and drawing him close. Then he slipped into unconsciousness. 

~*~

Hours passed and when Treize woke, the boy lay on his back, shivering uncontrollably. The sun had set; it was dark and cold. It would be a miracle if they both didn’t die of exposure, and he hadn’t even thought to tend to the boy’s wounds. 

He hovered over the pilot, lifting up the boy’s tattered black shirt. Treize sucked in a breath. The boy’s abdomen was bruised, but the muscles there . . . were flawless. Were all Gundam pilots in this good a shape?

Treize shook his head, focusing. He slid his hands over the toned chest; the boy groaned softly at the slightest pressure . . . So his ribs were bruised, definitely, maybe broken. Well, at least he wasn’t bleeding internally, as far as Treize could tell.

He gathered some drift wood, made a fire, and proceeded to remove the boy's shirt, then pants, and finally his underwear. He laid them next to his own clothes, close to the fire so that they would dry out. Then he wrapped himself around the pilot, trying to conserve heat. 

At least the sand felt soft, and it wasn’t too, too cold. Treize looked up at the myriad of stars, thinking. How did he get out of the Doll? Why was he floating in the sea on a piece of Gundam, which belonged to his enemy, no less? Had the boy rescued him? If so, why? Wasn’t his objective to kill him in the first place? So why pull him out of a sinking craft that he’d sent into the water in the first place?

Treize looked over at the boy, who had finally stopped shivering. “Well,” he said to himself, “it’s what I would have done.” He closed his eyes again, instantly asleep.

~*~

Wufei woke up just as dawn broke. The sky was a brilliant mix of pink and orange. He was cold, sore, and hungry. He curled into the warmth that spread across his right side, and nuzzled back into sleep. 

Then his eyes snapped open. He jerked away, his ribs audibly cracking. He did not cry out. He was too shocked. Next to him lay a very large, very naked Treize Krushrenada, sleeping peacefully, with his arms wrapped around Wufei’s own naked body! 

Wufei bit back a scream. 

He forced himself to stand, grabbing a low tree branch, and snapping it off. 

Treize’s eyes opened at the sound. Slowly, he focused, his eyes crossing as he took in the tip of the stick that Wufei had pointed at his nose. He looked up. 

A smile spread across his lips. “Are you planning on making shish kabobs out of me, Dragon?” he said in a honey-coated voice. 

Wufei’s eyes narrowed and he grunted. 

Treize attempted to stand, but Wufei sliced open his cheek in warning. He paused, wiping the back of his hand over the small scrape, and then fell back to the ground, head resting on his hands. He chuckled. Soon, he was laughing out loud.

“Are you fucking mad?!” Wufei screamed at him.

Treize controlled himself. “No, Dragon, I am not mad. I merely find it amusing, that we’ve come all this way, through a major firefight and a free fall into the atmosphere, landed on a deserted island, with very little hope of food or rescue . . . and I am to fear a death by your . . . pointy stick. I find it very, very amusing!” He didn’t laugh again, though. Instead, his expression clouded and he asked seriously, “Why didn’t you kill me before?” 

Wufei relaxed his hold on the branch for a second, and sniffed. “Why didn’t you let me drown?” he replied icily. 

“That wouldn’t be a very good way to show my gratitude.” Treize’s brows furrowed.

Wufei just stared at him.

Treize sighed. “Look, we’re stuck here for a while. I propose a truce.”

“Uh-huh,” Wufei said sarcastically.

“If I wanted to hurt you, Dragon, I would have done it the first time I bested you.”

Wufei’s back arched slightly; he remembered the first time he and Treize had dueled. Treize didn’t kill him then, though he should have. 

That had been Wufei’s reason for jumping out of his wrecked Gundam, swimming over to the Doll, and heaving Treize’s extremely heavy ass out of the sinking shell of his broken fuselage. Justice demanded it.

“Very well,” Wufei consented, lowering the stick. Then he stared at it. He must've look really stupid, going after the Commander of all OZ with a broken twig. It was ridiculous. 

He fought back a smile as he dropped the stick to the ground and sat down, covering himself with his hands. He hurt and it was hard not to show it.

Treize reached out. “Here, let me—”

“Don’t touch me!” Wufei hissed.

Treize narrowed his eyes. He was clearly unaccustomed to someone treating him with so little respect . . . but Wufei cared nothing for his rank, his power. Treize actually seemed amused by this. 

“Look, your ribs could very well be broken, and so they have to be bound. It will help ease the pain. Do you think you can bind them yourself?” Treize asked calmly. 

Grimacing, Wufei arched away as Treize moved closer. The older man grabbed up his officer’s shirt and tore it into three strips, as easily as if it had been made of rice paper. He then proceeded to wrap the first strip around Wufei’s torso, right underneath his nipples. 

Wufei sucked in his breath, but that had been the only outward sign of pain. Treize proceeded with the next strip of silken cloth, carefully draping it a little lower than the first. Wufei watched him out of the corner of his eyes. 

Inwardly, he marveled at how gentle Krushrenada was with him. He could feel those large hands deftly move across his chest, securing the bandages; Wufei trusted that Treize knew what he was doing. 

Treize looked the boy up and down when he was done. “I think the clothes are dry.”

Wufei blushed deeply. This was so awkward.

Treize smiled. He handed the boy his tattered clothes, and chuckled as they were ripped from his grasp. Treize averted his gaze, putting on his own underwear and pants casually.

Wufei dressed as quickly as he could, trying not to disturb his ribs. The bindings did help take a lot of the pressure off. He glared at the older man.

Treize turned around and watched him fiddle with the drawstring of his pants. The general sighed. “I couldn’t very well let you sleep in damp clothes and die of hypothermia,” he offered in explanation, as he helped Wufei tug his shirt over the bindings.

He then helped Wufei sit back down.

Wufei stared at the dying fire momentarily and then said softly, “Thank you.”

Treize’s eyebrows shot up. “You are most welcome.”

They both sat there, looking anywhere but at each other. Both crafts were lost to the sea. No radio. No way to contact either base. No fresh water. Both were exhausted, and Wufei had minor injuries. 

Plus, his stomach was growling. 

Treize frowned. “When was the last time you’ve eaten, Dragon?”

“Why do you call me that?”

“What? ‘Dragon?’ “ The older man looked out to the sea for a long time. “I suppose I wanted to think of you differently from the other Gundam pilots . . . wanted to give you a name. Dragon fits you up and down.”

Wufei scowled. This man didn’t have the right to speak so intimately about him.

“Is there something else I can call you?” A long pause. “I already know what you look like, so your name can’t be such an important secret.” 

“Wufei. Chang Wufei,” he spat out.

Treize shook his limp hand. “Delighted. I am, as you probably already know, Treize Krushrenada. When was the last time you had a meal, Chang Wufei?”

Wufei pulled his hand back. “I don’t remember.”

“Try.”

He really couldn’t believe Krushrenada cared. “Three or four days.”

Treize looked at Wufei more closely. Wufei did not appreciate the scrutiny. He knew what he looked like: His eyes had deep circles. His limbs shook slightly, from hunger and exhaustion. Any normal boy his age would have been broken by now. He was putting up a front, and he didn’t know how long he could keep it up.

“Then we must find you something to eat,” Treize said as he scanned the area. “Stay here. Don’t move too much. I’ll be back with food, if there is any.”

“Humph.” Wufei would take orders from the leader of OZ the day after hell froze over. He opened his mouth to protest, but the general had already gotten to his feet and walked deeper inside the cluster of trees. 

Wufei felt so tired. His nerves were raw. What the hell had he gotten himself into? Why didn’t he just kill Krushrenada?

Well, if he had killed him, he probably would have drowned. He hated being indebted to anyone. But there was nothing he could do about it now. As of right now, there was no war. No Federation, no resistance. As of this moment, there was an island, and hunger, and pain. 

He swore at himself as he lay back down on the sand. The fire was going to go out. The sunlight dappled through the palm trees; it was warm. He drifted in and out, eventually falling into a light sleep . . .

When he woke, the smell of smoked meat filled the air. His stomach muscles tightened painfully. 

“Here,” Krushrenada murmured, holding out a stick with juicy hunks of meat impaled on it. “I had to use your weapon. Sorry,” Treize said, grinning.

Wufei ignored him and attacked the meat with both hands, biting off a huge mouthful. It was hot; he burned his tongue, but it felt good going down. 

Suddenly he convulsed, spitting up. The pain in his gut made him gasp. He curled in on himself. 

Treize crouched near him. He uncurled Wufei and draped an arm under his shoulders, holding him up. “Wufei. Your body hasn’t eaten in five days. You need to go slow.”

Wufei whimpered in frustration. He stared at Treize.

The older man tore off a small piece of meat and brought it to Wufei’s lips. He choked back his humiliation, because he was literally starving. He ate from Treize’s fingers. 

“Slowly,” Treize murmured, as he fed Wufei another piece. He tried not to wolf it down. Treize blew on each morsel, looking into Wufei’s eyes when he placed them on the boy’s lips. 

Wufei had no choice; he took what was offered. They continued this way, until he stopped shaking and could feed himself. 

Treize kept his arm around him, making sure he didn’t take too much, too fast. 

Wufei closed his eyes and groaned with happiness as the warmth flooded his stomach. 

Treize smiled. 

Wufei’s eyes slowly opened. He blushed furiously. 

Treize lowered Wufei down, picked the stick up and fed himself, ignoring Wufei as he watched Treize from the corner of his eyes.

“Did you get enough to eat?” Treize asked suddenly.

“Yes,” Wufei said quietly.

“Do you want some of mine?”

“No.”

Treize tore off another piece of meat and brushed it across Wufei’s mouth. 

He ate it, surprised. He was so hungry, he had no self-control. He turned his face away and chewed angrily.

Treize finished his dinner and rubbed his hands clean with the sand.

“Do I want to know what that was we just ate?” Wufei asked.

“Probably not.”

“Hn.” Wufei’s eyes were drooping again. His ribs hurt. His head hurt. His belly was full and the afternoon sun beat down, warm. His skin was dry; his mouth was dry. He wanted to just sleep for days. 

Hiro would hate him for these weaknesses. Then again, Hiro would have killed Treize and then self-destructed the moment he found himself trapped in the middle of an ocean. So his opinion kind of lost some of its appeal.

“I will go and write a message in the sand,” Treize announced. “Maybe someone will see it in daylight, or our fire, at night. Stay here, out of the sun.”

Wufei couldn’t really think anymore; he was raw. His brain was in survival-mode. Stay warm. Stay fed. Sleep. That was all he could do . . . 

~*~

“General! Thank God!” Zechs exclaimed as he helped Treize onto the ramp of the charter plane. 

Zechs had been scanning the sea from his private plane all night and the following morning, ever since he'd learned of the general’s crash. the were able to scan for the mechs, and Zechs refused to give up the search just because both vessels were sitting at the bottom of the sea. At dusk, he saw Treize’s writing in the sand, and ordered his crew to land on the small island. 

“Are you all right, sir?” he asked nervously.

Treize looked over his shoulder. “The boy. Bring the boy.” 

Zechs walked off the ramp and into the fading sunlight. Under a patch of trees, several hundred yards away, the small pilot of Shenlong slept in the sand. Zechs pursed his lips. Well, shit. 

He slung the boy over his shoulder, paying no mind to the bandages on the pilot’s ribs, and brought him into the belly of the plane. “What would you like me to do with the rebel, sir?” Zechs asked.

“Put him down gently,” Treize ordered.

Zechs obeyed without question. So, the boy was under Treize’s care. In that case, he would see that no one harmed him. “Shall I see he has medical attention when we land, sir?”

Treize looked so worn-out. “Yes, Zechs. Please give him every attention. He . . . he saved my life.” With that, the general sank into a plush chair and closed his eyes. He did not stir for the entire flight to the home base. Not even when Zechs’ delicate hands traced his body, checking for any sign of injuries, or when he brushed the sandy-brown hair back from Treize’s forehead. 

Wufei, however, jerked and tossed in a fitful sleep. 

~*~

“So, you’ve finally rejoined the waking world, Wufei?” Krushrenada smiled.

Wufei peered up at him, trying to focus and failing. Eventually he got his act together, looking around the room. It was a bedroom. A very posh bedroom. He lay on silk sheets. 

“I was sure the drugs would keep you under longer . . . The doctors say you have two broken ribs and some small hair-line fractures in your arms and legs, along with a concussion. Other than that, dehydration and exhaustion, your body is in top form.” Treize winked. 

Wufei got the distinct feeling he was being made fun of. “Where are we?”

“My rooms. On OZ’s home base.”

Wufei’s eyes widened for a moment. He held himself very, very still. So, the truce was off, and he would die. He wanted to ask Treize would happen to him, but already knew. They’d heal his body, torture him for information, run experiments and then kill him. That was standard procedure. 

Fuck.

Treize watched him carefully. “No, I know what you’re thinking. I’m not going to kill the boy who saved me from drowning. Besides, if you weren’t out there piloting a Gundam, who would I have to spar with?” Treize mocked. 

Wufei snapped. “Just fucking kill me already, Krushrenada! I’ll never tell you a thing!”

Treize blinked, shocked. When he spoke, his voice was calm, reassuring. “Dragon. You have my word of honor no harm will come to you while you are here. I will see to it that you are healed, and when you are ready, you may return to your friends, or your home, or wherever want to you go. You are of no threat to us with your Gundam at the bottom of the sea.”

Wufei reeled. Nataku . . . was gone. He had no purpose. Nothing to fight for. Nothing to live for. He’d failed his wife. He was so ashamed! Even if he could get another Gundam and start fighting immediately, it would not be his Nataku . . . Tears came then.

Treize didn’t understand, obviously, but he was distressed at this. He moved closer to Wufei, and Wufei gripped his uniform and pulled him toward the bed. “Please . . .” His voice was a bare whisper. “Please kill me!” Wufei begged. 

“No,” Treize said simply. “No, sorry, Chang Wufei. I simply could not bring myself to kill someone who was no threat to me.” He brushed his knuckles down Wufei’s face. “Nor someone so young, and handsome.”

Wufei whimpered. Gods, he hated himself. “I’m filthy,” he croaked.

“That’s fixable,” the general announced. Treize carefully scooped him up and walked toward the bathroom. 

Wufei squawked. “What are you doing?”

Treize didn’t say anything. He put Wufei down on the lip of the large tub and turned on the tap. He went to the medicine cabinet and took out a packet, sprinkling the crystallized contents into the steamy water. 

“These salts relax the muscles,” Treize explained, unbuttoning his jacket. 

Wufei watched the older man undress, his jaw slack, his eyes wide. “What are you doing?” he repeated, softer.

“You are going to take a bath with me. The doctor’s say that your scrapes need to be cleaned or infection will set it, and your ribs will become inflamed if we don’t get some heat on them,” Treize said emphatically. “And since you’re heavily medicated and you are suffering a head injury, I will be the one to bathe you.”

Wufei almost swallowed his tongue. “No! No way!” He tried to stand, but Treize caught him in a vice-like grip. It really, really hurt. 

“I will have my way on this, Dragon,” Treize murmured.

Wufei bit his lip. Treize had already seen him naked. He was too tired to bathe himself—hell, he was too drugged to walk, really. He couldn’t possibly be more pathetic. This was probably some sort of psychological warfare; well, he wasn’t going to give the man any satisfaction by freaking out.

“Fine,” he said through grit teeth.

Treize unwrapped the bandages, never taking his eyes from Wufei’s. He tried to stare the other man down, but by the time Treize unlaced his pants, he blushed and turned away. The general smiled gently at him when Wufei gripped his shoulders—it was the only way he could stand up.

“Does it hurt?” Treize asked softly. “The medicine should kick in soon.”

Wufei just nodded. Treize’s shoulders were broad; the muscles in his back rippled every time he moved. Strong hands brushed over his hips . . . He just couldn’t keep his mind focused. He had been upset about something a moment ago . . . What was it? 

Treize knelt and slid his pants and underwear off in a single stroke, his hands caressing Wufei’s legs down to his ankles. Wufei trembled a little as he stepped out of his clothes. He leaned against the tub and tried to breathe.

Treize untucked his own shirt and slowly pulled it over his head. Wufei stared at his chest. He really wanted to touch the muscles there, for some bizarre reason. Maybe to prove to himself that the other man was real. Treize flicked his thumb across the top button of his slacks and slowly unzipped. He pushed his pants and silk boxers down to the floor and kicked them away. Then he leaned over—Wufei got a full view of the man’s ass—and turned off the water. He flicked a switch, and the jet streams pulsed to life.

He scooped Wufei up and placed him in the massive tub. Wufei let out a hiss and then a moan as hot water surrounded his bruised body, instantly turning what little brains he had left to mush. 

Treize got in, resting his back against the marble wall, and then pulled Wufei toward him. It hurt if he struggled, so he didn’t. He rested his head on Treize’s chest and let Treize hold him. 

“This is a dream,” he murmured.

“Is it?” Treize asked. He cupped hot water and ladled it over Wufei’s chest, down Wufei’s arms. It felt really good. 

“Mm,” Wufei hummed.

Treize let Wufei rest there for a bit, gently stroking strands of hair back from his face. He tucked Wufei’s hair behind his ear, over and over. It was . . . really nice. He’d never been touched . . . like this . . . with affection . . . 

Wufei felt the stirrings of Treize’s erection against his back; his eyes popped open and he sat up a little. Treize grabbed a sponge, drizzled bath gel over it, and then rubbed it in lazy circles over Wufei’s back. 

Wufei began to relax again. The longer Treize took, the more responsive he became. Soon the general dropped the sponge and began carefully massaging Wufei’s sore muscles. His expert hands worked the tension out of Wufei’s shoulders, then moved to delicately trace along his ribs, and then a little further down, kneading the muscles in his lower back. It didn’t hurt anymore. Actually, he felt a little . . . high.

Treize scooped up a handful of warm water and poured it over Wufei’s hair. He did that three times, getting all the soap off Wufei's back, then he tenderly caressed Wufei’s arms.

Wufei shivered.

“I’m sorry. I’ve let you get cold,” he whispered in the boy’s ear.

Treize pulled him back down into the steaming water; then ran the sponge across his chest. Up and down, up and down, in slow, rhythmic strokes. Wufei moaned again. Treize smiled. 

He followed the sponge’s path with the flat of his palm, lightly scraping over Wufei’s nipples. They instantly got hard. Wufei jumped a little, breathing sharply. Treize brought his hand up and pressed Wufei’s head back down onto his chest, stroking his hair, tucking it behind his ear again. 

Wufei sighed. He knew that this was odd, that he should be upset. He wasn’t, though. It wasn’t happening to him; it was all in his mind. Or something. He wanted to rub against the hard, huge, protective body behind him; Treize made him feel so good. He kept trying to remember why he didn’t want this . . . why he had been angry and afraid . . . but his thoughts were liquid, light—he couldn’t hold onto them. Soon he began to lean against Treize, pressing back against the other man’s chest, his breath coming a little faster. 

Treize hesitated. “Wufei,” he said quietly, pressing closed lips to Wufei's neck. 

“Hm?”

“Wufei,” he said again, more sharply.

“Yes, Treize?” Wufei all but purred, turning carefully, nuzzling against the general’s cheek. 

Treize drew in a deep breath. “Tell me you are willing. Please tell me you are willing . . .” He hooked two fingers under Wufei’s chin and lifted Wufei's face.

The next thing he knew, Wufei felt strangely hot; Treize pressed their mouths together softly. He held his breath. It was a chaste, sweet kiss. He liked the feel of it on his lips; he wanted more. He whimpered slightly. 

Treize slid his tongue across Wufei’s lower lip, running it back and forth slowly, erotically. Wufei had never been kissed before; he wasn’t sure what to do. He parted his lips, and gasped as Treize’s tongue swept inside. The older man stroked Wufei's tongue with his own, mapping his mouth. 

He melted against Treize, just holding on for several long moments, then cautiously titled his head, sucking gently on Treize’s tongue, moaning sweetly into Treize’s mouth. 

Treize broke away, gasping slightly. He was hard and he looked at Wufei intensely. “Tell me you are willing,” he ground out.

“I . . .” Wufei looked up at him, shivering. “I don’t know what . . .” He frowned, biting his lip. “I don’t hate it.”

“That’s encouraging,” Treize said dryly. 

Wufei ran the pad of his forefinger over Treize’s lower lip curiously. “I’ve never done this. It feels good. I probably shouldn’t . . . You’re probably just trying to trick me.”

Treize tilted his head. “You mean, you’ve never kissed another man before?”

He shook his head. “Never kissed anyone.” He thinned his lips. “Wasn’t time for that stuff. There’s a war on, you know.” He blinked, shaking his head. He felt really, really groggy.

“I see,” Treize said softly, sadly. “Wufei . . .” He shifted slightly in the water, his knees coming up around Wufei’s sides. “I’m honored to have your first kiss. I . . .” The older man stopped, straining for the right words. “I would like very much to do more, but only if you are willing.”

Wufei cocked his head to the side. “More?”

“Yes.” Treize swallowed thickly.

“What more? We’re men.” Wufei kept staring at Treize’s mouth while he spoke. It was a pretty mouth. 

Treize chuckled. He cupped more water, pouring it over Wufei’s shoulders. “Would you like me to show you?” he whispered.

“Y-Yes,” Wufei said.

Smiling, Treize pulled him close, pressing kisses down his jawline. He sucked on Wufei’s earlobe, and Wufei closed his eyes, sighing. 

He titled his head, shivering when Treize breathed in his ear. He dropped his head to the older man’s chest and just clung for a moment. Treize brought up Wufei’s hand and kissed his palm. Wufei nuzzled him, pressing little kisses to Treize’s pectoral. 

Treize turned Wufei’s hand over and bit tenderly at his slender wrist, then sucked on Wufei’s thumb. He swirled his tongue around it suggestively, staring at Wufei.

Wufei got hard. Fast.

He stared at the older man, watching as Treize sucked on each one of his fingers. 

“Treize,” Wufei’s said huskily. 

Treize slowly pulled Wufei’s middle finger out of his mouth. “Yes, Dragon?”

Wufei started to speak, but Treize seized his mouth in a brutal kiss, possessively invading Wufei with his tongue. Then, he gently sucked on Wufei’s tongue, licked at the corners of his mouth, and pressed their swollen lips together. 

Wufei shuddered as Treize ran strong hands over him, stroking his back, smoothing over his ass. Treize rubbed Wufei’s leg, moving to the inside of his thigh, then stroked his stiff sex. Wufei groaned and thrust his hips forward. 

Treize twisted so that they were side by side, leaning against the tub’s wall. He sucked on Wufei’s neck, ran is tongue over the hollow at the base of his throat. Wufei’s head rolled back and he covered Treize’s hand with his own, silently asking. Treize slowly stroked him with feather-light touches. Wufei’s breathing stuttered. He began to pant. If this was torture, he wanted more. 

Wufei bent carefully over to kiss Treize’s chest. He lapped at the older man’s nipples, taking one in his mouth, biting gently. Treize gasped sharply and leaned back, moaning low in his throat. 

When he glanced up, Treize gave him a slow, seductive smile. He reached up and drew the man down for a kiss—then winced. His ribs!

Treize quickly repositioned himself, kissing Wufei’s face, his eyelids, his neck, the crux of his shoulder and chest, his nipples . . . Wufei ran his fingers through Treize’s hair, whispering his name. Meanwhile, Treize continued to caress Wufei’s sex, making him squirm and moan. The older man dipped his head, took a mouthful of water, and then let it trickle down over Wufei’s chin.

Suddenly, Wufei jerked and moaned.

Treize looked down at him, concerned. “Are you all right, Dragon?”

“It’s just . . . this position hurts,” Wufei said tiredly.

Treize lifted him gently, moving him until he sat on Treize’s lap, so that the older man could bear his weight, and Wufei didn’t have to hunch over. 

He sighed, relieved. He nuzzled Treize’s chin. 

“I want you,” Treize whispered, rubbing his hips in slow circles. The older man’s erection ground against the swell of Wufei’s ass. “I want to be . . . inside of you.” 

Wufei frowned, nipping at Treize’s lips. “How?”

Treize fingered Wufei’s puckered entrance. “But, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Wufei’s eyes went wide. He swallowed. “You mean . . .?”

“Does it disgust you?”

He swallowed again. “I . . . I guess not . . .” He looked down. “But you’re so big . . .”

Treize smirked. He brushed the back of his hand across Wufei’s face. “It will hurt at first. But I have oils . . .” His voice trailed off.

“I . . . I’m so . . . I don’t know,” Wufei said miserably.

“You don’t have to,” Treize reassured. “This is enough. More than I’d hoped . . .”

Wufei kissed the older man. “This is treason, Treize.”

Treize said nothing.

He hiccupped. “I failed to protect my family. I lost my Gundam. Now I’m . . . whoring myself to the enemy . . .” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m such a failure.”

“Dragon. You’re one of the bravest, most honorable pilots I know . . . It’s so unfair that you should have to . . .” Treize trailed off. “You’re so young . . .” He soothed his hands down Wufei’s cheeks. “This burden should never have been yours.”

Wufei sniffed. He felt drunk. He couldn’t control himself. He was crying, crying!

Treize murmured, “Please, I can’t bear tears from you.”

“Please,” he said thickly, “please, just . . . Hold me, touch me. I want to feel you—”

Treize kissed him passionately. Wufei moaned, rocking his hips over Treize’s. Treize reached over and plucked up a bottle of bath oil. He warmed it between his hands. He continued to kiss Wufei as he inserted one lubricated finger into his hole. It felt good. Eventually, he worked three fingers in, stretching Wufei thoroughly.

“Little one,” he whispered, “I want to be inside you when you come. Will you let me?”

Wufei could only nod.

Treize positioned his cock at Wufei’s entrance and held his hips, carefully lowering him onto that huge, stiff prick. Wufei gasped and raked his nails down Treize’s chest, his eyes screwed tightly shut.

The older man rubbed the mounds of Wufei’s ass, rocking him forward, making him take just a little bit more, then a little bit more. “You’re . . . very . . . tight . . .”

“Ah . . . Ah!”

“You can say stop if you want,” Treize said. Wufei merely shook his head.

Treize stroked Wufei’s cock, thrusting up now, burying himself to the hilt. Wufei trembled and cried out..

“Hush, Dragon. I know. I know. It hurts. Only for now, I promise . . .” Treize whispered to him. Slowly, carefully, he began to thrust in and pull out. 

Wufei jolted. His ribs hurt, but it was nothing compared to his ass. He was about to tell Treize to stop, when the head of the older man’s cock rubbed against his prostate. He gasped and shuddered, coming slightly. 

Treize smiled. “There it is,” he whispered. 

The older man established a lazy rhythm, hitting his pleasure center with every thrust. Wufei moaned, snapping his hips back. He gripped the side of the tub when Treize began thrusting faster, deeper. Wufei opened his eyes and gave Treize the most passionate, hungry look. 

“Dragon . . . Is it good?”

“Don’t stop!” Wufei whispered.

Treize moaned. Wufei pulled him up, touching their foreheads together. He worked his thighs, riding Treize’s cock, ignoring the pain, panting in Treize’s ear . . . “Tr-Treize!”

Wufei arched his back, coming quickly all over Treize’s chest and neck. He clamped down on Treize’s cock and the older man shouted, thrusting into him with minute little jabs. He came in Wufei, groaning, his face buried in the crook of Wufei’s neck. 

He collapsed on top of Treize, gulping in air. Treize immersed them in the warm water, holding Wufei close. He kissed Wufei’s forehead, stroking his fingertips up and down Wufei’s spine.

Minutes passed. The water turned lukewarm. Treize’s cock slipped easily out of Wufei. he didn't stir. His breathing was shallow, but even. 

“Wufei? Did I hurt you?” Treize asked quietly. 

Wufei shifted, almost asleep. “Hm?” 

“Did I hurt you, Dragon?”

Wufei shrugged. “I . . . didn’t mind. Wanted it.”

Treize pressed Wufei’s head against his chest, hugging him, stroking small circles across Wufei’s shoulder blades. Eventually he sat them up and turned off the jet streams, opening the tub’s drain. Water swirled around them. 

Wufei blinked; he was so tired. 

With some finagling, Treize lifted him out of the tub, dried him off, and carried him back to the bed.

“You have a fancy room,” Wufei murmured.

“I’m a very important person,” Treize said with a grin.

“Uh huh,” Wufei said sleepily. 

He sat on the bed while Treize fetched bandages and bound his ribs again. 

“You are going to be really sore,” Treize said. “We probably shouldn’t have. . .”

Wufei brushed his hair back. “There are better reasons for why we shouldn’t have, General.” He yawned. 

“Pajamas?” Treize asked, indicating his closet. 

Wufei blinked. “You have anything that would fit me?”

Treize grimaced. “Not really, but . . . Hang on.” He disappeared for a moment and returned with a silk tunic of deep, emerald green. Treize helped him get dressed; the sleeves engulfed his hands and the pants covered most of his feet, but he was thin enough that the rest fit. When that was done, Treize slipped into a fresh pair of boxers.

Wufei fingered his pajamas, cocking his head to the side.

“Oh, these were Milliard’s, from back at the academy . . . For some reason I never threw them away . . .”

He wanted to ask who Milliard was, but frankly, he didn’t want a list of Treize’s past lovers or close family members or whoever would be important enough that he would hold on to a pair of pajamas for several decades. “Uh huh. Can we sleep now?”

Treize smiled, dimming the light beside the bed. “The doctors did say for you to rest. Is their medicine working?”

Wufei shrugged, crawling between the satin sheets. “Heavy . . . doesn’t hurt . . . so . . . sleep . . .py.”

Treize spooned behind him. Wufei sighed softly, wiggling closer to the warmth. The older man held him close, his nose buried in Wufei’s hair. 

“Treize?”

“Hm?”

“I like . . . this island.”

“Island?” Treize sounded surprised. 

“Yeah . . . hope . . . hope we get rescued . . . not too soon, though . . .” He trailed off, failing asleep. 

~*~

Wufei woke to the sound of Quatre’s worried voice.

“Wufei? Wufei? Are you all right? Wufei!” Quatre’s voice overlapped with Trowa’s.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” the tall boy asked.

“Six?” Wufei replied with a frown.

“Ah shit!” Duo said. 

Wufei blinked. He was . . . with the other Gundam pilots . . . at the Winner mansion . . . “What? What happened?”

Quatre shrugged. “I woke up this morning and somebody had dropped you at my door step. I thought I saw a jeep pull away . . . You just lay there. I thought you were dead. Hiro and I brought you in here,” the blond boy said. 

He looked up at Hiro’s stony face and said, “I was on a desert island. And then I took a bath with Treize . . .” Wufei shot up as though he had been burned. “Treize!” he cried. 

That little stunt fucking hurt. He fell back to the bed, clutching his sides. 

“Oh man, he’s out of it!” Duo said cheerfully. “Treize?”

Trowa quickly cleared his throat. “I think he needs some rest. There are bindings on his ribs, maybe you should call a doctor, Quatre.”

Quatre nodded. 

Hiro held his arm out, stopping the blond boy. “Where is his Gundam? If he’s been with Treize Krushrenada, then he’s probably talked. We’ll have to kill him or he could endanger—” 

“Oh no you don’t!” Dup barked. “We are not killing Wu-chan, do you hear? I don’t care if he thinks he showered with the whole OZ army, he’s our friend and our comrade, and you’re not gonna kill him!” Duo said heatedly. “Besides, do really think Wufei and the general of OZ took a bath together? Look at him! He’s doped up!” 

“Hn,” Hiro said, lowering his arm. “That is highly improbable. Still . . . “

“Finish that sentence and I will never have sex with you again,” Duo threatened.

Everyone in the room froze, wide-eyed. Hiro took a deep breath and finally said, “Fine.”

“Treize,” Wufei whispered. His eyelids fluttered. “It was all a dream . . .” His head fell back to the pillows.

Trowa’s eyes caught something; he reached out for it—a small, black string wrapped around Wufei’s neck, a charm dangling at the end of it. All four boys leaned in closer.

“What is it?” Wufei asked tiredly. 

“It’s a necklace,” Duo said. 

“It’s gold,” Trowa said with a frown. “A dragon entwined around a rose.”  
Wufei bit his lip. 

“Wufei, where did you get that?”

“I don’t remember,” he whispered. And that wasn’t a total lie. He didn’t remember anything after going to sleep in Treize’s bed . . .

“Hn,” Hiro said, but shut up when Duo gave him a sharp look.

“Welcome home, Wufei,” Duo said, shuffling the other boys out of the guest bedroom. 

Wufei stared at the ceiling, blinking back tears. Home?

Home was an island, far, far away. 

 

~*~


End file.
